graphic courtesy of michaela bassick
It was through the passing of continents Where I was bestowed the age where the world would notice me Spent inside a fortress amongst the city of love Eyes fluttering to a close And the world becomes still yet fast all around me in a blur I envisioned a magical day A day where I would pass through a portal to being a woman Only it was spent in the crossing I woke up feeling the anticipation of the magic But never the magic itself Am I so simple that I cannot fully bring my special day to mean something more than what I think? Was I lied to by the shiny girls on television who this day would change the trajectory of their lives? Was I not important? Or was the day simply a childhood fad? A dream? I was made to feel bad for making it seem lacklustre. The apparent sweetness of this day had not grown bitter Or spicy to where it would burn me inside out Only it had become sour Awkward And almost sweet